You can leave your hat on
by Naidoo
Summary: Getting a drunk Felicity home seemed like an easy enough job. What Oliver didn't expect was finding himself locked in her bedroom - and her rapidly loosing a piece of clothing every time he wasn't looking. ONESHOT


_AN: Felicity might seem a teeny tiny little bit OOC in this - but than again she is drunk and in my experience everyone usually seems a bit OOC when drunk. This story by the way only happened when my IPod played 'You can leave your head on' and my muse went into overdrive - hence the title. But I wanted a story where Felicity strips in a not very 'we are dating - it could be expected' kind of way. As this is a Oneshot let your imagination run wild with what happens when they wake up :)_

_ Feedback feeds the muse :)_

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How it had gotten to _this_ point exactly, he wasn't sure. Maybe he had a faint idea, but he still was working out the details. All he knew was that when Felicity called, sounding more than just drunk and rambling more than her usual self about one thing or another, Oliver knew he needed to find her before she ended up getting into… trouble.

As it turned out – he'd be the one ending up in trouble. Though the jury was still out on whether said trouble was bad or good actually. There was a part in him, deep, deep within him and very small, that actually enjoyed this way too much. And he really should… do something. But… he couldn't.

He remembered her saying something about an old friend from school being in town and her having dinner with him. Whether she had any interest in him or any hopes for how the night went, Oliver didn't know. And quite honestly he didn't really care. Not when it seemed he was reaping all the benefits.

_Bad_, he reminded – reprimanded actually - himself for even thinking the situation he found himself in currently had _any_ benefits he was reaping. He should really do something.

Oliver assumed that by her being all drunk, calling him and actually seeming all by herself by the time he found her that the night was not a successful one. He tried asking how it went, but all he got were words like 'jerk', 'dumb blonde' and 'school reunion' thrown at him. And she spoke an awful lot about someone named Arianna. Oliver's best guess was Arianna being her friend's wife.

The twenty minutes' drive from the club he found her to her place were definitely amusing. Felicity being her usual self, just drunk, which made her rambling slightly slurred and a bit hard to follow.

Arriving at her place, he figured it might be a good idea to see her to her apartment. Not that she looked like she couldn't walk the four sets of stairs, but they seemed like a bit of a challenge. And a little help never hurt, he figured. With his arm around her, making sure she didn't fall every odd step they made it eventually to her door. Finding the keyhole was the next challenge for his usually very brilliant IT-girl. When she missed her target for the twentieth time and started cursing, he took over, having her door unlocked and open in a matter of seconds. Instead of letting go and saying her goodnight's she dragged him with her towards what Oliver assumed was her bedroom.

He got her on the bed, seeing her fall face down first. And he should not find this amusing. He really shouldn't. But seeing this side to his otherwise usually rather collected friend was definitely a change. She usually was his voice of reason and the first to tell him drinking was not good and did only increase problems.

Checking quickly on her to make sure she didn't pass out or end up dead when morning came, he decided to call it a night and head home. He wondered briefly when her bedroom door had been closed and turned the knob, just to find it…locked.

"If working for you has taught me one thing… it is to always lock my doors," he all of a sudden heard Felicity explain. Turning towards her, he found her sitting on her bed, looking at him.

"You know, your front door probably would have been enough already," he answered amused.

"Yeah, but when they make it into my apartment and then to my bedroom door…. They have to work twice as hard, cause they wouldn't expect that door to be locked as well," she explained with a somewhat serious face and closed eyes that had him smiling.

Oliver had to admit he liked drunk!Felicity quite a lot. If sober Felicity already was fun, drunk!Felicity was hilarious. 20 minutes later he probably would wear up and down that he'd never let her drink anything alcoholic ever again.

"That is good to know," Oliver assured her with a smile before turning towards her, not entirely aware of the satiation he actually found himself in. "But how do you escape than?"

He had to admit, it was a conversation he really didn't want to have and a situation he never wished she'd find herself in.

"I do have a fire escape – as you might be well ware, seeing as you like to use it occasionally when dropping by." While her speaking abilities had slightly improved over the past half hour, Oliver didn't miss she seemed to start having a certain attitude all of a sudden. And he really hoped drunk!Felicity wasn't like drunk!Tommy.

"So where is the key to your door?" he asked smiling.

"Secret place," she answered conspiratorial. The next moment he felt her hand in his and being pulled forward, towards her. She pulled him down, letting him sit and got up. Just then Oliver noticed that her shoes had disappeared. Where to he really didn't know. The same could be said about her coat.

A moment later she disappeared into her en-suite bathroom, just to come back literally a second later, rambling once more. Oliver was not really listening, wondering more about where on earth that key could be, when he looked back at her and noticed… the top she had been wearing a moment ago was gone. And maybe he really should keep an eye on her. _NOT_ because she was at this stage half-naked, but because he worried the next time she'd leave this room she'd come back wearing nothing at all. And maybe he also should find that god damn key. Maybe he should find the key first and keep an eye on her while doing that. It was all about priorities. But how come his priorities seemed to rearrange themselves with every piece of clothing Felicity was losing? And he did _not _just think that. He did not just think about Felicity loosing anything!

"Um…listen… that secret place for your key. Is there any chance you'll let me in on that secret as well?" he asked, assuming the direct approach might be his best shot.

He saw Felicity shake her head and her hands going for what he assumed was the zipper on the back of that rather tight skirt. And was it just him or did the temperature in this room just increase?

His eyes shot towards her windows – the fire-escape in particular. If she wasn't telling him about that god damn key, than he'd just go that way. But somehow he remembered her mentioning something about her windows being linked to her security system when locked. And her security system being in the other room.

When he turned his eyes towards her again, she had managed to get out of that skirt and Oliver was not sure what was worse. The fact that this was Felicity, his best friend, IT-superwhizz and part of his team and her probably never getting over this once she woke up tomorrow. Or that there was quite an increasing part in him that wanted to see how far that would go.

Before he could get on with his thought she was kneeling on the bed, loosely straddling him. He _knew_ he should have gotten up – that sitting on her bed would eventually turn out to be a bad idea.

Only a small part of his mind registered the hold-ups she was wearing, the rest of him was busy ignoring the black lace underwear that he found himself presented with. For whatever reason he always figured her to be more of a silk underwear girl. _ And he did _not_ just think that_.

"You think I'm bad person?" she asked, seeming to get rather comfortable. That certainly couldn't be said about him.

"Not sure you really want me to answer that right now," he said, smiling, seeing her look at him strangely.

"I actually do," she said after having thought about his answer for a moment.

"What I think is… that it would make the good person that you are even better if you'd let me in on the secret of where the key is," he said, not believing it came to him bargaining with a half-naked Felicity about how to get out of here. There was a time where he would have used any opportunity to get laid and wouldn't have thought twice. But that was a long time ago. Not that he never thought about himself and Felicity. He sure did, but he also knew this couldn't end well for so many reasons. Reasons that seemed to be more and more irrelevant and important the longer this night went on.

He saw Felicity shake her head again at his suggestion. "Nope. My secret!"

She leaned forward, whispering that last part in his ear.

"Why… why do you think you are a bad person?" he finally asked, figuring if he kept her talking she had less opportunity to loss any more clothes. Not that there were many things still left to lose.

A moment later his theory was debunked. She sat on his knees, lifted her legs up and slowly – painfully so – rolled her hold ups down. First her left leg, than the right one. And all Oliver could think was _When the hell did she become so flexible?_ Or maybe she always was and he just didn't know.

All she really was missing was music. And Oliver couldn't help but think he could give her a few suggestions if she'd ever plan on doing this again. _Bad_, he reprimanded himself second later. _Really bad_.

"Would you sleep with me?" she asked next and Oliver would have spit his drink across the table, had he be drinking and been sitting at a table.

"Now?" he just asked dumb folded and surprised. And okay, maybe not the best reaction.

"Nooooo," she sing-sang. "Hypothetical."

"Um, sure," he says, seeing her smile at him. "If you weren't my friend. And my EA. And the technical genius on Team Arrow."

And just like that her smile vanished. "That's a lot of things I must not be," she remarked. "But at least you didn't say I'm not pretty enough." Her smile returned as quickly as it had vanished.

She flung her right leg over him – a move that made Oliver realize just how very long and pretty and god-damn sexy legs she had. And then she got up and di what looked to be a victory dance. Seeing her dance around her rather small bedroom, shaking her hips and doing moves Oliver wasn't sure he should really be seeing did things to him he really didn't want to admit to. This night had to come to an end. And if Felicity ever should end up drunk at one of Starling's clubs, he'd leave it to Digg to get her home.

When she vanished into the bathroom Oliver assumed now would be his time to maybe find some sort of escape. Kicking her door in certainly wouldn't be one of these options. That would just add to an already long list of things her sure as well wouldn't want to explain to her come tomorrow.

He really needed to find that damn key. Quickly. Her bedroom was not that big and there weren't that many places to actually hide something. Thinking back about when they came in, she was by his side all the time. Sure, he hadn't noticed her actually even closing the door, but he surely would have realized if she'd just walked of. Especially since he moved her to the bed before any of this went down.

And just like that he thought he'd seen something on the floor, next to her dresser. He felt like doing a victory dance himself when it turned out to be a key. The key to get him out of here before he'd do anything he could - and most likely would - regret. Oliver was actually surprised that he had withstood so long.

"You know, I think your excuses are lame," he heard her all of a sudden say. "L-A-M-E."

He turned around to see her having returned from the bathroom and just standing a few inches away from him. And he really needed to work on his hearing. That fact that she actually had managed to lose her bra did only register with him moments later.

Before he even could say anything, she was pressed against him. "What if I don't except aaaaaany of these reasons?"

"Um… hypothetical?" Oliver asked, just when she pressed herself so much tighter against him and he felt like that last bit of resistance was about to crack. He could feel the hard wood of the door press against his back and he realized that very moment he was screwed. And that was not the only hard thing he felt.

"Because I really would," she said next, nodding and winking before she brought one of her arms around his neck and pulled his head in, pressing her lips against his… eyes – or rather the lids. When she noticed that she slightly off aim, she tried again, her lips hitting his nose this time. She was getting closer.

Since third time is a charm, she managed to get where she had planned with her third attempt, pressing her lips against his firmly. And that's when he couldn't hold back anymore. A guy only had as much power to not give in. And his limit was finally reached. He kissed her back with all the need and desire she so interestingly had been building up over the past hour or so. He kissed her since he wanted to since that first time she showed up as his EA with skirts that were definitely too short – though just a tick and it wasn't as if anyone really minded. Except for one person of course – but Oliver surely wasn't thinking about _her _right now.

He felt Felicity's leg come up, her knee brushing past thigh and hip bone. He noticed how she wanted to unbutton his shirt, but had problems that most likely could be blamed on the alcohol. A moment later he heard a rip and the sound of buttons hitting the wooden floor. Definitely one way to do it.

His hands travelled over her lace-clad backside, having a firm grip, before lifting her up. As if on cue first her right, than her left leg wrapped around him, while he carried her the few feet from her door to her bed – the key long forgotten.

Somewhere in the back of his mind it was registering that she was drunk. That she might not even be aware of what she was doing, that he was taking advantage of a situation, of her state. But then again, it wasn't as if he hadn't been trying to resist.

And maybe she was right after all. Maybe his reasons were really lame.

***~*~*~ THE END *~*~*~***


End file.
